I Will Not Bow
by L'Archel-Hotishi
Summary: Hetaoni crossover.  America and England are in the grips of despair within the mansion as the monster chases them through the halls.  Sometimes it takes true peril and agony to make one realize what he cherishes the most.  Spoilers within!


Title: I Will Not Bow

Pairing: America x England

Disclaimer: Hetalia and Hetaoni are not mine. I claim no rights to the characters or setting. Just the story is mine…XD

Rating: K

Author's Note:…Hetaoni got me interested in Hetalia. I must write a story for it! It's just…mandatory, you know? It's like eating cake. You just have to do it, even if it's only once in your life. Enjoy!

_**Spoilers for Hetaoni up to the first half of part 17. **_

**-START-**

The hallways never seemed to end.

The footsteps never seemed to stop.

There was always pain coursing through their veins, creating a heat that threatened to sear every limb.

Now, as the gray, alien mass chased England and America down the halls of the manor, hope had begun to cease. Italy had gone back in time on so many occasions that America, after hearing his horrifying tales, was close to collapsing from fear. Everyone had died at least once. All they needed to do was get out alive, that was it. They could all be happy again…

That's why Alfred continued to pull and drag an exhausted England down the halls, praying with every fiber of his being to come across a room they could duck in. "Hey…c'mon, Britain! Don't do this…I can't carry you forever…and that nasty thing is totally ganging up on us!" he yelled in horror, risking a glance over his shoulder. As suspected, the monster that resembled his friend Tony, stained crimson with splotches of blood, was following behind the duo closely. "Ack! Hurry up! C'mon Britain!"

The green-eyed man was panting like a parched canine, sweat dripping from his freezing brow. Unconsciousness was slowly consuming him. "You bloody git…shut the hell up…if you can't run anymore…why don't you just…leave me…?"

As Alfred's legs charged forward, England's weak frame was draped across his sturdy shoulders. "Hell no! We can't leave this world until we can figure out a way for everyone to get out alive, including you! This is no time to be a damn hero!"

A small snicker crept up England's dry throat.

"Heh…it's so odd…hearing that from you, America…" Arthur's voice crackled with a weak smile, his body slowly sinking to the ground. "I would have thought…that you'd never stoop that low…"

"_You're the nation that always wants to help others…"_

Finally, the blonde fell with a loud thump, forcing Alfred to a jerky stop. The Englishman had finally slipped away. "Britain!"

"_But I keep forgetting…while we're in the manor, we're not nations."_

"Why are you so loud, you damn wanker…" he choked out, a steady stream of blood starting to spill from the corner of his mouth. He'd been fighting with his magic for hours. No wonder he was so exhausted. It was thanks to America's bullets that they'd been able to make it this far.

"_We live and die as humans. We're as insignificant as insects."_

"What the hell are you talking about? Do you honestly think I'd leave without you!" America asserted, leaning forward and yanking his gun from its holster. "Britain, stop being such a damned idiot! I can't leave behind the people I love, no matter what!"  
>Palm slamming against the muscle of his arm, he aimed and pointed his weapon at the blood-thirsty creature. England looked above him and, just as it was about to attack him with its grotesquely corded fingers, Alfred shot. The bullet screamed loudly through the air and hit the alien right in the abdomen. With a loud gurgle, the shape crumbled like a feeble piece of tissue, body splayed out across the floor of the narrow hall.<p>

England managed to roll out of the way in order to avoid any contact with the fiend and, before another strike could be delivered, Alfred threw the older nation over his shoulder and ran in long strides towards their safe haven. The space Germany had built…the only place they could call home in the hellhole around them. "America…?"

Alfred wasn't paying attention. The emerald-eyed man glimpsed over to see his friend's handsome profile. His features were hardened with emotion and eyes blaring with rage. At that moment, he saw a flash of the younger America, the boy he'd raised, and how sad he'd looked during the Revolutionary War. And at that moment, he draped his arms around him. Hope, while it was fleeting, had returned in a firework of sadness and nostalgia. Through tears, England managed to whisper, "T-Thank you…"

"_You and I…we're going to live…"_

The door was within reach. They'd escape together and run into the arms of their companions.

"_America…once this entire thing is over…I'll tell you…"_

"Britain! Open your eyes! Britain!" America called, the closeness of his voice sending chills down Arthur's spine.

"_I'll confess once and for all. I'll say those words to you…the words I've always wanted to say…"_

"Britain!"

"_I love you."_

"**Britain, open your eyes! Wake up!"**

But when the European nation obeyed Alfred's request, he saw nothing but blackness. The hall and creature had vanished. He could no longer see America's face but, when he felt the younger nation holding his hand and the pillow pressed against the back of his head, he sighed in both relief and sadness. "Oh…a dream. Of course."

"Hey, Britain? What's wrong…you were squirming like crazy and yelling 'bout something…" America rambled childishly, causing Kirkland to chuckled. He was still a child, no matter how big he was. "Oh, oh! I forgot to ask…is your sight back yet?"  
>His voice sounded desperate as he asked and, if England could see the ache in Alfred's eyes, his heart would have broken into pieces at the sight.<p>

Hesitantly, he shook his head. "No…"

"Oh…okay…"

He sounded so hurt. "Uh…is Italy awake yet?" England asked, eyes searching for any traces of light. Alfred reached over and placed either hand on England's cheeks, holding his head steady. He brought their foreheads together and shook his head, dread filling the room.

"No…he's still not up."

He'd thought so. Italy had suffered more than any else, and he couldn't blame the Italian for finally caving in. "R-Right…if I still had my magic, maybe I could…"

"Do what?" Jones asked, moving his hands from Arthur's and clutching his shoulders. "You lost your sight because you overused your magic. Even if you had your sight back…we wouldn't be able to do anything to help Italy…"

The blue-eyed nation looked over and witnessed Germany leaning over the Italian's limp body, watching him intently for any small signs of life. Their hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined tightly. Japan was also by his side, looking off at a mystified Prussia. "England…work on making yourself better…and I'll be here for you the entire time…"

England stared ahead, wanting so much to see Alfred's cerulean eyes and handsome face. He wanted to drag his fingers across his well-sculpted cheekbones and kiss his supple cheek, just like he used to do long ago.

"…_Blast…now I know I can't tell you. No, not until I can see the reaction on your face…when I tell you…"_

"..You're right. C'mon, let's start the meeting. I think I can stand now."

**-END-**

Whoo….written in half an hour. Punching out fluffy one-shots is fun…but I should probably be working on my longer, multi-chaptered stories…

Ah well, see you all again soon! **Bai bai!**


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